Pride
you know
the day I died was the day I embraced pride in who I am
washed myself of white-washing, looked that shit in the eye and said
“this is some fucked up bullshit”
the day I died was the day I was crucified
chastized, scrutinized, stigmitized but christ almighty I
rose up
and claimed that shit because there is no shame
in being proud
(except for y’all white folk because your whiteness is a history of exploitation, colonization, genocide, devaluation, oppression)
and hey, I had no say being born in my skin either,
but that’s different from finding solidarity with my bretheren and sisteren and calling them my family, my community,
people who teach me, heal me,
see me
as more than just brownness and complacency in this framework of our shared history
of being put down and I’m proud,
because I’m tired and angry of being quiet
because model minority is a myth
because forever foreigner is a piece of shit
because I am done
with being reduced to ching chong ling long ting tong
and I’m sorry
if my pride makes you scared of the fact that I know
this, and I ain’t letting it go.